To the owner of a fine black automobile
To: The owner of a fine black automobile with black rims and the rear-left tire slashed,
No, you don't know him; no, it isn't personal. Your culprit is an olive skinned man in his late thirties with a grey jacket and blue toque. He's angry because the results of your careful planning and decisions serve as a reminder that he is unable to do the same for himself. It's not as much his fault as you would think; his brain chemistry has been a bit off since his early twenties, leaving him prone to emotional outbursts which most would consider to be inappropriate. He's made some decisions involving people he thought he could trust, but as it turns out he was mistaken. He knows there is something up with his mind, but can't put his finger on it, and is convinced that if he had received the proper treatment as a teen that he wouldn't be in the same position he finds himself in today. The most unfortunate thing about this assessment of himself is that it is entirely correct.
It’s funny how the universe connects people sometimes. Taking common synaptic signatures and intertwining them through a course of events. It's not as off the wall as you might think. You bought your car, because it struck you as being representative of who you are. You went through thousands of makes and models, instantly discarding the ones that didn't suit you and then honing in on the ones that seemed to pop. For the first time you were able to get the one you felt suited you exactly, and the money was right. That car sings to your soul, which is probably why I can see it. I know why you went for those rims; just that extra touch of style, just the right slice of you to compliment your machine. Your selection was profoundly adept; it does indeed resonate with your personality, your style, your priorities and values.
In the same way, it resonated with him. He's just as smart as you are, you know. There are however a multitude of small lesions in his brain which prevent his thought patterns from becoming clear and defined, he has problems with assigned context because one idea is not connected to the next and the next and so on - the incidentals, the underlying context, is twisted and garbled and dropped as so much mental white noise; only the truly strong thoughts, the ones heavily seated in emotion and their associated chemicals remain. His mind is always trying to heal, and constantly boosts his brain chemistry to make him more emotional than normal in order to give his thoughts meaning and direction. Its shuts down little segments here and there, to prevent the damaged tissue from being involved too heavily in the thought process, but this is causing bouts of extreme depression, guilt and anxiety. He doesn't understand why he is like this; he is smart enough to see what 'normal' people do, he is smart enough to know what the rational course of action is, and yet is incapable of following it. He really is trying his best, but life itself has thwarted him, and he knows it. His emotions were running high that morning, allowing him the ability to focus and think, and when he saw your car, something beautiful, something personal, he wanted to be you, the Driver. So he took out his knife and made you more like him. Fucked by life for no other reason than existing where you were, when you did. His entanglement worked, and now he is more like you than he was before, and you are sharing a part of his pain.
Here's a piece of the lesson: be thankful you can fix your tire.
Here's the meat of it: This seeming annoyance comes as a gift. A stranger wishes to give what he has to offer, and add his strength to yours. The form is conflicted because the emotions behind it are also conflicted, appreciation of the gift will require some pause and insight. The gift comes to you because you are able to get past the emotional context and see it for what it is; a mark of respect. You are living to an ideal he appreciates but knows for a fact he can never have. I know over the past year or so you have felt a growing loneliness, that there are few people who understand and appreciate you. You seem to be taken for granted more and more, and you are wondering if there is as much a point to your success as you once thought. The truth is that you are lonely because not many people think like you, not at the core. Your imprint, the basics behind why you do what you do, how you feel, how you think and react to situations, usually results in poor decisions early on in life that are quite damaging to the individual. There are half a score of people on this planet with this imprint, and you are the only one to make it as far as you have in terms of your ability to successfully relate to the world around you. What you may not realize is that you are a champion among your kind; the only viable outcome in a crowd of unfortunates.
Your message is clear: Even if for no other reason, do your best because you can. You are bearing the torch for a people you will likely never meet except in passing. Life has given you a most fortunate twist of fate, make the most of it- just as you always have. Long life and good fortune will follow you to the end of your days.
Good Journey,
The Messenger
No, you don't know him; no, it isn't personal. Your culprit is an olive skinned man in his late thirties with a grey jacket and blue toque. He's angry because the results of your careful planning and decisions serve as a reminder that he is unable to do the same for himself. It's not as much his fault as you would think; his brain chemistry has been a bit off since his early twenties, leaving him prone to emotional outbursts which most would consider to be inappropriate. He's made some decisions involving people he thought he could trust, but as it turns out he was mistaken. He knows there is something up with his mind, but can't put his finger on it, and is convinced that if he had received the proper treatment as a teen that he wouldn't be in the same position he finds himself in today. The most unfortunate thing about this assessment of himself is that it is entirely correct.
It’s funny how the universe connects people sometimes. Taking common synaptic signatures and intertwining them through a course of events. It's not as off the wall as you might think. You bought your car, because it struck you as being representative of who you are. You went through thousands of makes and models, instantly discarding the ones that didn't suit you and then honing in on the ones that seemed to pop. For the first time you were able to get the one you felt suited you exactly, and the money was right. That car sings to your soul, which is probably why I can see it. I know why you went for those rims; just that extra touch of style, just the right slice of you to compliment your machine. Your selection was profoundly adept; it does indeed resonate with your personality, your style, your priorities and values.
In the same way, it resonated with him. He's just as smart as you are, you know. There are however a multitude of small lesions in his brain which prevent his thought patterns from becoming clear and defined, he has problems with assigned context because one idea is not connected to the next and the next and so on - the incidentals, the underlying context, is twisted and garbled and dropped as so much mental white noise; only the truly strong thoughts, the ones heavily seated in emotion and their associated chemicals remain. His mind is always trying to heal, and constantly boosts his brain chemistry to make him more emotional than normal in order to give his thoughts meaning and direction. Its shuts down little segments here and there, to prevent the damaged tissue from being involved too heavily in the thought process, but this is causing bouts of extreme depression, guilt and anxiety. He doesn't understand why he is like this; he is smart enough to see what 'normal' people do, he is smart enough to know what the rational course of action is, and yet is incapable of following it. He really is trying his best, but life itself has thwarted him, and he knows it. His emotions were running high that morning, allowing him the ability to focus and think, and when he saw your car, something beautiful, something personal, he wanted to be you, the Driver. So he took out his knife and made you more like him. Fucked by life for no other reason than existing where you were, when you did. His entanglement worked, and now he is more like you than he was before, and you are sharing a part of his pain.
Here's a piece of the lesson: be thankful you can fix your tire.
Here's the meat of it: This seeming annoyance comes as a gift. A stranger wishes to give what he has to offer, and add his strength to yours. The form is conflicted because the emotions behind it are also conflicted, appreciation of the gift will require some pause and insight. The gift comes to you because you are able to get past the emotional context and see it for what it is; a mark of respect. You are living to an ideal he appreciates but knows for a fact he can never have. I know over the past year or so you have felt a growing loneliness, that there are few people who understand and appreciate you. You seem to be taken for granted more and more, and you are wondering if there is as much a point to your success as you once thought. The truth is that you are lonely because not many people think like you, not at the core. Your imprint, the basics behind why you do what you do, how you feel, how you think and react to situations, usually results in poor decisions early on in life that are quite damaging to the individual. There are half a score of people on this planet with this imprint, and you are the only one to make it as far as you have in terms of your ability to successfully relate to the world around you. What you may not realize is that you are a champion among your kind; the only viable outcome in a crowd of unfortunates.
Your message is clear: Even if for no other reason, do your best because you can. You are bearing the torch for a people you will likely never meet except in passing. Life has given you a most fortunate twist of fate, make the most of it- just as you always have. Long life and good fortune will follow you to the end of your days.
Good Journey,
The Messenger
posted by The Messenger | Wednesday, January 12, 2005
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